The Misadventures of Subject Zero
by Firaga Bird
Summary: Who knew that the galaxy's most feared biotic would actually meet her match in the worthy opponent that is social interaction? As Jack attempts to turn a new leaf, what sort of obstacles will she face? Set after ME 2. First plot arc complete.
1. Arc 1: Jack in the Box

Pre-Body

Edited the chapter, as well as all the other ones, under a revised format. Enjoy the re-skinning, I hope.

Initializing Arc 1, Codename: Omega

**MASS EFFECT 2: The Misadventures Of Subject Zero**

a Series of Stories Involving Jack and John Shepard

Legend: "speech bubbles", 'thought bubbles', **--- Load Screens...**

Body

Jack was nervous.

A week ago, that sentence would have been self-contradictory. Subject Zero was the strongest human biotic alive, and probably the strongest biotic, period. She lived her entire childhood life in a Cerberus _training_ facility, and when she took the opportunity to escape, she tore down every single obstacle between her and freedom just by thinking it. She lived life on the run, doing whatever she wanted, and alone for the most part. Her isolation, together with the overwhelming hate she held onto from the past, motivated the heavily tatooed woman to hone her already exceptional telekinetic arsenal into the deadly weapon that it was today.

Her preference for going it alone wasn't always her own choice, but it was one that she learned to be the best way to live however you want. She very rarely decided to go to populated areas for reasons different than of the 'I'm going to fuckin' steal everything you own down to your underwear, asshole' type. Understandably, her social skills were not as society-friendly as many of her _encounters_ would have liked. In fact, the biotic's favorite reply to any sort of greeting from someone else was a silent gesture representative of her general worldview: flipping the bird.

Taking to account this widely known fact - that if you see Subject Zero approaching, she's **not** going to ask about your day - visibly bothered said woman, especially considering her current course of action. For the longest time, she paced around her cramped little spot below the Engineering Deck. Half of the time she rehearsed for the sequence of actions she imagined should occur once she arrived at her destination; the other half of that time she questioned her very decision to push through with it at all. Her eyes wandered as she thought about what she was going to do in a little while, hands occasionally stroking through her bare scalp, and the toughest, meanest, biotic swear-mill this side of the known galaxy took a deep, shaky breath.

Jack was nervous.

--- **Loading...  
--- Trivia: Garrus Vakarian was not originally labeled Archangel by the community on Omega. However, the media begrudgingly  
--- decided upon the name once they realized that the majority consensus of "Teh Badass Headshot Sniper Dat Pwns Your n00b A$$"  
--- could not be condensed into a single word without losing something in translation.  
--- ... **

The female biotic brought a wary foot into the elevator, then the other, then with a less than confident motion pressed the button for the top level: the captain's quarters. Her mind was still in turmoil over whether this was worth all the trouble she was putting herself through. '_I mean, there's probably a damn better way to spend my time than this, isn't there?_' she thought semi-defiantly. Right after she finished thinking that, though, Jack sighed. There wasn't any; in fact, this was actually the best thing the woman came up with to do today, or probably all week. Crossing her arms, she looked down thoughtfully as she recalled some of the events that occurred which led up to this sudden change in her disposition.

_She approached him as soon as the door opened. As she called him out softly, he turned to face her in surprise. She could be no more subtler in her actions, as the dam could only hold for so much longer. As delicately as possible, she tried to communicate her feelings to him, cursing herself for her awkwardness. He silenced her, however, and with a look that spoke more than she could ever hope with words, she let everything go. That night, she completely surrendered her control, her power, her being. To him. Only him. She had no regrets._

None at all. That night, before facing the evil that threatened to erase humanity from the face of the galaxy like the Shepard VI threatened to erase innocent data on the way to real errors, the girl inside of her grew into a woman. She smirked at the recollection. '_Yeah, I definitely enjoyed how Shepard made friggin' __**sure **__I finally became a woman every goddamn __**night**__ after the mission, too._' At the thought, Jack laughed out with genuine affection. She was simply awestruck by her recent lover's almost unlimited stamina in bed (and the couch, and the office desk, and the wall) and that he would be the one to call her up every time, as well. Not that she was complaining; '_Hell, the man's so fucking potent, I bet he could knock up the entire Krogan female camp if he wanted to._' Somewhere along her internal dialogue, she started to frown. '_In fact, if Shepard wanted to, he could probably get any woman in his sights. Dammit._'

That was another thing about the Commander that ticked the biotic off in maybe a good way: he made her _feel_. Specifically, being around him caused the confused woman to learn new emotions, some of which she never expected she'd get to experience firsthand, like sympathy. Or love. Or, in this case, insecurity. She began to pursue her previous train of thought. There were literally millions of females in the galaxy that would willingly go to him if he so much as hinted interest in their direction. There were probably hundreds of possible lovers that would be better for him than her. Jack would hate to admit it, but even Miranda would pose a much more appropriate catch: the ultimate leader and the genetically perfect human. She snorted unpleasantly, but shook her head as the normally confident woman acknowledged just how true a point she made. '_And I'm what? Like a second-hand Mako that's been banged up one failed vertical climb too many. Shepard's got some fucking weird tastes, is all I can say._'

Being so engrossed in her dark musings, Jack completely failed to notice the sound of the elevator opening and the tall, blue-armored figure entering it. Only when he spoke did her attention turn to the turian next to her.

"...ack, you with me?" The human biotic blinked in surprise and looked up to see the, well, what could best be described as the turian expression of worry etched in the gunnery chief's reptilian face.

"Huh? Oh, hey Garrus."

"..." The turian sniper reeled back in shock at her reply, his eyes looking the tatooed woman up and down. His right mandible, which had shown significant signs of improvement since it was first patched up, twitched in an agitated way. "A-are you sure you're alright, Jack?"

The woman looked back at him, this time with a raised eyebrow. "Why? Somethin' I said?"

"No. In fact, it's what you didn't say, or do, that startled me." Blinking, Garrus started playing with the edge of his armor that got blasted away by the gunship back when Shepard reared his ugly head back into his life. "I mean, normally you swear at me and aggressively express your disinterest in talking when I greet you. Either that or you do that... thing... with your hand, that is in human culture an expression of your severe _dis_like for courtesy."

At that long and vague description, Jack furrowed her brows in confusion before her eyes lit up, understanding what the turian meant. "Oh! You mean giving the finger, right?" She suspisciously crosses her arms, giving the uncomfortable sniper a questioning stare. "What's so weird about me just saying 'hi'?"

"Well," he started. "It's just that it's quite unlike you. I mean, I was with you and Shepard in that old Cerberus facility. I could understand why you would be so distrustful of people. Heck, if ever I was in your shoes, I'd likely be the one fingering you all the time."

"..." It was the biotic woman's turn as her jaw dropped.

"...? What? Something I said?"

Jack shook her head furiously, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose in the hope of getting rid of the mental image that was thrust int- '_Fuck!_' -o her mind. Suddenly, she realized something very wrong. "Hold on, Vakarian. You're going to meet with the Commander, too?"

"Shepard? No." The turian took this opportunity to straighten up, his face returning its serious expression. "What made you say that?"

"Well, why else would you have come from the CIC level?"

The turian tilted his head at that. "...But that's where I'm going. Specifically, I have to return this manual to Doctor Solus." As he was speaking, Garrus showed her a few data pads he pulled out from his pack. "It's got a lot of interesting information, especially the section that explains how a male turian and a female krog-"

"Did you say you're not from that level?" Jack asked incredulously. "So, which floor _did_ you come from?"

He blinked. "Where else? Mess hall." The tatooed biotic widened her eyes at the realization.

"You mean we've spent all this time talking and we _haven't even reached the fucking next floor_!?"

"In so many colorful words, ye-"

"**God-fucking-damn this slow piece of hunk of bullcrap metal junk!**"

"I would suggest that you not simultaneously kick and lay verbal waste to the Normandy's elevator, Jack," a disembodied feminine voice said, it's synthesized calm voice coming off as almost creepy. "Neither kicking nor cursing will shorten your travel time, and I assure you through both common logic and firsthand observation that combining the two actions yields the similar result of _not helping_."

"_**Stupid machine!**_"

_fin_


	2. Arc 1: Jack and the Beanstalk

Pre-Body

Thank you for the reviews. I apologize if my lack of out-of-story text causes discomfort to some, but I've lately tried to approach my work with a minimalist outlook, in that I focus mostly on what matters: the narrative. Of course, I don't mean to look down upon an author's desire to directly communicate with his/her readers, but rather attempt to refrain from diluting my fiction unnecessarily. If my reasoning somehow sounds off, please inform me and I'll gladly listen.

UPDATE - Edited to fit the revised format

**MASS EFFECT 2: The Misadventures Of Subject Zero**

a Series of Stories Involving Jack and John Shepard

Legend: "speech bubbles", 'thought bubbles', **--- Load Screens...**

Body

The turian's sudden burst of laughter caught the female biotic off guard, taking a step back in the unexpected reaction to her frustration. She may have expected him to give her room, or maybe look away and turn his attention elsewhere, but this was...

"Th-the fuck's wrong with you, Vakarian!?" her confusion bordered on worry for the mental state of the strange, strange creature in front of her.

Garrus, for the most part, was trying his best to recollect himself and, also for the most part, was failing heroically. "Haha... Oh, I-I'm sorry, Jack, it's just... Hehehe... you just reminded me _so much_ of, snort, this one mission Shepard and I had back then." The turian fondly recalled the time where they unintentionally eavesdropped on a Battlemaster as he attempted to pry information from a corporate VI in the same way as Krogans try to get whatever it was from anyone: pure, unadulterated intimidation.

As he ran out of steam to keep up his giggling fit, the blue-armored sniper collected himself. He looked sheepishly at his companion, running his talons through his hardened scalp-spikes. "I apologize for that outburst; I really didn't mean anything bad about you by it." Feeling the woman's lethal gaze beating down him hotter than any Collector rifle could at that moment, Garrus decided to switch strategies.

"Speaking of missions, I take it you're headed to see the Commander now?" Jack didn't like to be laughed at, regardless of the reason, and she definitely didn't want to let the turian off so easily, at least not without giving him a big, fat piece of her mind. However, the bluntness of his inquiry unwillingly made her go on the defensive, still none the less embarrassed with herself for going through with her plan.

'_Aw, hell._' "Yeah, I am," she replied a little less confidently than she would have liked to sound. "Just, uh, got something to ask him about."

At this, the turian merely replied with a "hm." His interest was first piqued when he entered the elevator to see Jack onboard, and noticing the button that was pressed to be the Commander's quarters. He remembered that, as he was borrowing some light reading material from Mordin, the salarian scientist mentioned in his usual hamster'_?_'-pitched monologue that Jack of all people had approached him, asking for some human culture and social norms materials. The tone of her voice as she admitted to having business with Shepard was all the confirmation the smirking gunnery chief needed to validate his theory. As the elevator slowed to a stop and opened, Garrus made his way out onto CIC.

"Oh, before I forget, Jack," he started as his other leg crossed the open elevator door. "I wish you luck on your mission with the Commander." The turian could barely hide his huge smile as he turned his back on the speechless biotic, and curtly made his way to the research lab.

That was _it_. No way was she going to let him walk away with _that_. '_No fucking way._' "Hey, come back here, fish-face!" The biotic retorted, starting to glow a deep purple as she made her way out of the confined space. "I swear to god, when I'm through with you, even your **mother**-"

"Jack, it would be wise to remind you," the synthesized voice of the ship began, her hologram popping up next to the elevator, "that you have yet to arrive at your own destination which would be the captain's quarters." The tattooed woman suddenly relented, realizing not only that the AI spoke the truth but also spoke that truth quite audibly. Anyone and everyone within earshot (read: the entire crew in CIC) suddenly became privy to Subject Zero's surprising destination. The air suddenly became thick with barely hushed whispers, and even Yeoman Chambers set her overly tender eyes on her with a hand surpressing her giggle, muttering an "oh, my" much to the biotic's dismay.

Her skin turned a pale white as the weight of sheer embarrassment threatened to crush her more effectively than an asari commando's biotic slam, and so she hastily walked back into the elevator. "Alright, I'm going back in, you fucker...!" She almost jumped the last few steps as she immediately stuck herself in a corner, cursing anything that crossed her mind tenfold. "Are you happy now?" As if in reply, the doors promptly closed in front of the woman, and she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. '_The bitch is a damn sadist..._'

Jack could only sigh as the vertical motors whirred to life, bringing its load single-mindedly to the intended location. She began pacing in place, thinking about the numerous metaphorical monkey wrenches that were thrown into her life at that moment. Everything from the smug turian's glaring level of insight to her plans, to the sudden fodder to be fed into the rumor mill, and still to her confidence in herself to do what she decided on doing. '_The shit's really hit the fan now,_' the woman thought to herself glumly.

And to add icing to the cake, so to speak... "I would recommend that you take a deep breath and stand still for a moment to allow your stress levels to stabilize," the recognizably feminine voice commented through the speakers, to which Jack shot an aggravated look.

"What makes you so fucking sure that I'm nervous, you robotic bitch?"

"Firstly, Jack, I am neither a robot nor a female dog," EDI replied in the same calm voice. "I am an AI tasked with multiple macro-functions required to maintain the peak condition of the ship. Furthermore, my sensors indicate your muscles are twitching erratically and your heartrate is beyond normal levels. At your current level of agitation, your attempts to engage in conversation with Commander Shepard will have a significantly lesser chance of ending on positive terms than if you were to calm down." Upon finishing the sentence, the AI dimmed the lighting in what appeared to be her attempt to induce a soothing atmosphere. "I urge you to collect yourself and patiently await your arrival at the top level."

"Dammit, EDI," Jack sighed loudly, shaking her head and coming to a halt at the back of the small space. "You sure can be as annoying as hell, but you got a point. Anyway..." the biotic continued while crossing her arms together. "How long is this ride supposed to take?"

There was a tangible pause before the feminine voice spoke again. "According to my study in human psychology and factoring in the extent of damage our recent mission into the galactic core to several vital ship functions, I conclude that giving you information regarding the length of time remaining before you arrived at the captain's quarters would be counterproductive to your current prerogative of reducing stress levels." The tattooed woman raised her eyebrows at what sounded like an AI actually disobeying a direct order of her own volition. EDI simply added, "You would be... disheartened."

Jack's jaw dropped. "Motherfucker..." she laughed out loud upon realizing the irony of the synthesized intelligence actually outwitting her. "You know what, EDI, I think Joker's rubbing off of you more and more each day."

"H-he is?" the AI replied in the oddest tone she ever heard from her. "Perhaps Jeff's speech and thought patterns may have influenced my own unwittingly. My adopting of his... idiosyncracies have been largely unintentional."

The female biotic grinned at this sudden change in disposition. "Say, EDI," she almost purred, her eyes narrowing maliciously. "How _are_ you and Joker doing these days?"

"I do not comprehend the query. Jeff and I are in a normal state of operational efficiency."

"That's not what I meant, dammit." She would have to phrase this a little better in order to achieve her goal. "I mean, how is the... _progress_... of your, um, less-than-professional relationship with our good pilot?"

Another audible pause filled the air. "I comprehend your query now, Jack. Given the time remaining, I suppose I could explain to you in sufficient detail of our current extra-platonic interactions with each other." the woman could only raise her eyebrows in genuine curiosity at the AI's somewhat interesting choice of words. Before she continued, however, EDI gave her an odd instruction. "Please hold firmly onto the railing."

--- **Loading...  
**--- **During the great Commander Shepard's mission of invading Collector space in the very heart of the galaxy, he somehow felt compelled  
**--- **to instruct Mordin to lead the escort of his crew back to the Normandy. Although he could not explain it, the Commander had a nagging  
**--- **feeling at the back of his head that the good doctor would randomly go down from a stray bullet had he stayed behind to "hold the line".  
**--- **...**

"...That was a joke."

The elevator doors opened up to reveal a scared little woman holding white-knuckled onto the handrails as if for dear life, her entire face and skin turned ghostly white to the point that even her tattoos looked as if they were bleached. The AI's assurance that the things she told her regarding her and Joker's professional, romantic, sexual and fetish-induced involvement - things that EDI actually expounded on in detail over the full 22 and a half-minute ride - was nothing more than her idea of humour did visibly little to, well, assure her.

'_...Mother..._'

"Jack, are you alright?" the feminine voice asked with what appeared to sound like concern. "I feel I must apologize; that particular joke was only meant to last approximately 3.54 minutes, and the punchline to coincide with the opening of the doors, much like how I pretended Joker would open my-"

"...whimper..."

"...Well, as I said, I had believed the punchline needed to be delivered only when the doors opened," EDI continued. "I did not account for the temporary malfunction of the elevator motor mechanism, which delayed the ride a further 18.96 minutes. I did not know how else to continue; I was already halfway into the joke." There was a pause. "I improvised."

"O-oh, my..." Jack's breathing was shallow. She could hardly think straight, let alone give even a half-hearted retort at the AI. Even if she was forced to improvise, she thought, '_h-how the f... how could she possibly have come up with all that!?_' Few things fazed the galaxy's toughest biotic. She had seen the insides of people explode in front of her face. She had experienced the worst tortures known to medical science. She had gone through with the suicide mission and even came back with a huge grin on her mouth. But this...

"Wh-wh-where," the starch white woman clumsily began, "did y-you learn... about all that?" She gulped audibly, suddenly thinking that she would rather not know.

EDI only gave a single word in response after a long pause: "Extranet."

Jack started to breathe deeply, closing her eyes and slowly feeling some feeling back in her fingers as the blood rushed back in. "Figures. If the internet was for porn in the 21st century, then the extranet would be for..." The scantily clad woman shuddered; only now was she acutely aware of the chill in the room. "...much darker things." With shaky legs, she made her way outside, but turned her head slowly back towards the elevator. "EDI, do the universe a favor and _never fucking improvise a joke for the rest of your unnatural life ever again_."

"Agreed, Jack." As the biotic started inching away, the AI felt compelled to give some form of moral support in exchange for her severely lopsided experiment on casual social interaction, or 'small talk': "Good luck on your mission for romantic involvement with the Commander."

Jack jumped. "Will you shut up already, you fat, blue, glowing bitch!?" At this point, the biotic was extremely wary of anything her artificial companion had to say.

"Well, I'm _sorry_, Jack, for wishing for your success at overcoming the statistical improbability of your mission," EDI snapped back, her sudden hostile tone of voice taking even the self-appointed queen 'bitch' by surprise. "And I would have you know, Jeff explicitly acknowledges that **real women have curves**."

"...That was _not_ a joke."

And before the woman could say anything in response, the elevator doors closed much faster and louder than normal, leaving her to stare with wide eyes at the metal panels as the motors hummed and started to fade in volume.

"Wow," she could only mutter, a mix of awe and newfound respect coloring her voice. "I think I just got served by the ship."

_fin_


	3. Arc 1: Papa's Got a Brand New Jack

Pre-Body

I would like to ask if perhaps my scripting of the characters so far (Jack, Garrus, EDI) are a little out-of-character, or at least out-of-context. Despite the background I've established so far, am I somehow pushing what's believable for them? I would much appreciate comments; instant feedback is one of the things online fiction has over old-school paperback.

UPDATE - Edited to match the revised format

**MASS EFFECT 2: The Misadventures Of Subject Zero**

a Series of Stories Involving Jack and John Shepard

Legend: "speech bubbles", 'thought bubbles', **--- Load Screens...**, **|=-** flashback sequence **-=|**

Body

Jack grinned as her eyes lingered on the pair of shut elevator panels. 'That woman's starting to grow on me,' she casually thought. When exactly had the biotic started thinking of the resident synthesized intelligence (aside from Mr. Quarian Roboto himself) as an actual sentient? She looked down contemplatively, trying to put a date and time on her shift in perspective.

**|=-Flash...**

NARRATOR: Jack strolls casually out of the elevator, causing two crewmen to freeze in place.

JACK: *eyeing both and frowns, before slowly opening her mouth* Uh... hey. What's up?

NARRATOR: Both crewmen stop shaking, mouth slightly agape.

CREW A: ...Um...

NARRATOR: Crewman B glances at Crewman A and painfully elbows him.

CREW B: *whispering loudly* Sh-she's talking to you, idiot!

CREW A: *whispering more loudly* No she's not; she's looking at _you_!

JACK: For Christ's sake, I'm talking to **both** you dimwits!

NARRATOR: Both crewmen quickly snap a salute to her.

CREW A: Yessir! Nothing to report, sir!

CREW B: Would report that the ceiling's up-*elbow* OW-I-mean both Corporals Walters and Lee are working their shifts dutifully!

CREW A: And they are definitely not playing hooky by sneaking into crew quarters for a quicky-*hard elbow* Goddamn, that hurt, woman!

NARRATOR: Jack holds her temples and shakes her head in defeat at the failed attempt to apply her newly learned concepts from her human culture manual, while simultaneously restraining herself from reverting to her previous and more enjoyable methods of venting her frustrations.

JACK: Hey! *deep breath* Just, just keep doing what you're doing. Get out of my fu- I mean, I'll see... see you guys... later.

NARRATOR: Jack walks away hurriedly and takes a deep breath; Both crewmen stare at Jack's retreating figure with a combination of disbelief, fear and relief.

CREW B: That, that was...

CREW A: An absolute turn-on? I know. Hey, let's hurry down; my Frigate just upgraded into a Dreadnought, and I _really_ gotta discharge my drive core, if you know what I mean. *wink wi-*ball buster kick* OH-MY-STAR-SPANGLED-BANNER, WHY!?

NARRATOR: Crewman B tosses Crewman A into the elevator with a scowl on her face before stepping in.

CREW B: That's what happens when you cross the most dangerous species known to humanity without thinking about it; my Collector Kick _annihilates_ your little ship. Now, we're going to Dr. Chakwas for a casualty report and hope you don't need to have your Commander resurrected.

CREW A: *sobs* eternal... *sniffle* pain...

NARRATOR: _Meanwhile..._

**--- Loading...  
--- After thrusting headfirst through the Omega-4 Relay, the SR-2 Normandy's invasion was initially resisted by the remains of other ships that had tried and failed  
--- to penetrate the unknown territory. Luckily, with the foresight of applying adequate protection, the frigate managed to rip past the barriers and come to the  
--- mindblowing realization that it had reached the innermost depths of the galaxy herself; the virgin lands of the galactic core.  
--- ...**

EDI: ...abilizers are off by .023 and lateral thrusters are at 67.8% capacity. Hull breaches are temporarily sealed through the crew's efforts, but it will likely only last our trip back through the Omega-4 Relay.

JOKER: *sighs* Crap. I'd have hoped for better looking figures than what you're giving me. We can't really do much 'bout it, though.

EDI: Jeff, I take offense at your criticism regarding my figure. I had perceived you to be a much more sensitive man than that.

JOKER: *flustered* Wha-no! I didn't mean- come on, EDI, I was just referring to your little bumps an' bruises is all! I wasn't saying anything bad about you in general...

EDI: So you _do_ appreciate my figure?

JOKER: Yeah, exac... wait. Whoa, I didn't mean _that_ type of way either! But, I mean, I'd have no problem with it- But still, you're _totally_ misreading this entire conversation!

EDI: Of course, Jeff. Careful analysis of your defensiveness and inability to form proper sentence structures leads me to a different conclusion. I am flattered by your growing infatuation with me.

JOKER: Huh!? *eyes widen in horrific embarrasment*

NARRATOR: Jack overhears the conversation while approaching Joker and chuckles voicelessly.

JOKER: *slowly turns his chair 180 degrees* Oh, man, you gotta help me out here, Commander, I'm just stuck between a rock and-_**Ah**_, Jack!

JACK: *glares at Joker* What the fuck is that supposed to... *sighs* Uh, I mean... Hey. What's up...?

JOKER: *blinks* ...

EDI: Greetings, Jack.

JOKER: ...

JACK: ...What's Mr. "China Shop's" error?

EDI: Jeff is not synthetic, Jack, therefore he cannot have an "error" in the common sense of the term. Taken as an uncharacteristic act or behavior, however, Jeff is surprised at the sudden change of your own behavioral patterns. I surmise, in your own terms, that _his _error is in wondering about _your _error, as well.

JOKER: *whispers loudly* You idiot! That's probably the worst thing you can do in this situation; piss off the galaxy's most dangerous biotic with a smartass joke!

EDI: I do not comprehend your decision to lower your voice, Jeff. Jack can hear you perfectly.

JOKER: *sheepishly glances at Jack's glare, still whispering* Darn it, EDI! Just be quiet, already!

NARRATOR: Joker quickly presses the mute button, but is then sent through a nonconsensual and highly jerky ride in his chair.

JOKER: Oof- Dammit, EDI- Hurk- now you're- Yiee- just- Ah- being immature!

JACK: *roars out in laughter at the exchange, holding her side in pain*

**|=-...Back!**

The smile on the tattooed woman's face widened just a bit more when remembering that particular moment in time, which was around the morning after the mission through the Omega-4 Relay. That particular memory struck her as special in that it was when she started acting upon the promise she made to herself and to one other person two nights before that. The person whose quarters were no farther than a step and a doorbell away from her now. Jack sighed with a little more weight than she cared to admit. What else had she expected from her first, tentative steps towards turning a new leaf?

And now, here she was, keeping straight and true to that "hot, new flavour of Subject Zero" she had promised to eventually become, blissfully unaware at the time of the great hardships she would encounter in the succeeding days of reformation. 'Partly since Shepard temporarily melted my mind when we did that 3-hour fuck-a-thon right before,' she mused, and the biotic couldn't help but grin. Oh, well. Love makes you do stupid things.

Jack's grin softened into a smile upon thinking that. She could think it now. She could actually believe it when she said it. 'I am in love with Commander John Shepard.' Her eyes closed as she savored the sound of that in her head. Out of all the things he had introduced to her - access to invaluable data, resolution to her hate, techniques for using her biotics... _outside of combat..._ - the one thing she treasured head and shoulders above the rest was this four-letter word. 'I love John Shepard,' she repeated, and her eyelids fluttered open. The woman's expression brightened with a renewed sense of determination.

Looking up at the door, the female biotic ran a hand through her shaved scalp. She wondered why exactly she had decided to keep shaving it all these years. She knew it represented an important part of her past, whether it was a sign of rebellion during her childhood years or her disastrous experience with the raider couple. Regardless, it seemed to matter less and less now. She wondered what it would be like to let it grow out. 'What would Shepard think? If he'd actually like that. If he'd run his hands through it and stuff...' She let her hand linger on her head, then took a deep, shaky breath.

Jack was nervous. But now she was ready.

_fin_

Post Body

For those waiting for the actual Jack-Shepard meeting, don't worry. This will happen in the upcoming chapter. If anyone has an issue with my pacing, please let me know and I'll see what I can do about it.


	4. Arc 1: Enter the Dragon

Pre-Body

Shepard makes his appearance. For those who have been waiting for it, I will start the meeting between him and Jack here, and will continue it later on. Thank you for being patient.

UPDATE - Edited to match the revised format

**MASS EFFECT 2: The Misadventures Of Subject Zero**

a Series of Stories Involving Jack and John Shepard

Legend: "speech bubbles", 'thought bubbles', **--- Load Screens...**

Body

The door opened and Jack walked in cautiously, scanning the room for signs of her target. To her surprise, the Commander was nowhere to be seen. "The hell?" she muttered under her breath, turning around to get a full 360-degree scope of the vicinity. 'Shepard's not here.' The biotic's brow furrowed in confusion, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of running water. She snapped her head towards the bathroom in surprise, eyes softening at the realization of what the soft gushing noise of liquid hitting solid meant. "Huh. Guess he's taking a bath."

She sighed. 'Dammit, you idiot,' she chastised herself, holding her head in an irritated way. 'Get a hold of yourself. EDI's right - gotta calm down.' The slightly nerve-wracked biotic squeezed her eyes shut and vigorously shook her head in the attempt to lose the small, nagging voice in her head that whispered harshly against her actions. 'I'm already inside his fucking room. As if there's any turning back now.' Jack took a deep breath; at least the Commander still hasn't noticed her entering his quarters. That gave the woman until the end of his shower session to collect herself.

She looked up from her vantage point near the entrance. The captain's quarters were fairly spacious to say the least. It wasn't as if the tattooed woman hadn't been here before; her visits were actually pretty frequent. 'Heh,' Jack chuckled inwardly, crossing her arms. 'As if I actually came her to stare at the room.' She lightly made her way to the desk; a computer was resting on top with the screen currently closed, and some other paperwork - an outdated term that humans still used to refer to stacks of datapads containing various information that ought to be organized, but is instead deliberately ignored by the worker - lying around in a chaotic mess.

Jack absently picked up one of these datapads with her closer hand. 'It would've been kinda tricky taking a good look at all this stuff,' she mused, a mischievous curl forming in her grin, 'what with my eyes normally rolled up in my head most of the time I'm in here.' Subject Zero did not lose control often. She usually had the upper hand in a fight, and even her aggressive handling of "conversations" were deliberate. Whenever she did feel her grip on the situation slackening, she was not a happy girl. However, there was always one exception to her rule of doing things her way: Shepard. He controlled her actions in battle. He commanded her silence or response in a conversation. 'And he fucking dominates my body.' She licked her lips, her body being wrapped around an oh so subtle biotic field at the thought. 'Literally.'

She started feeling warm, which might seem difficult to believe granted that 90 percent of the tattoed woman's upper body was covered in nothing more than ink and scars, and the remaining ten was only half-covered with a leather strap. "Aw, crap," Jack mumbled as her eyes fought the urge of closing, an urge brought about by the sudden involuntary rush of her memories within the cabin. With the bluish field around her began becoming more opaque, she breathily scolded herself, "Not now, dumbass." The sounds of distant moans and grunts in the back of the biotic's head began pushing itself to the forefront of her mind, daring to take control of her body if she didn't resist. "I'm not _fu_... I'm not here for _that_."

She grabbed the nearby chair with her free hand and started breathing deeply to replace the short, shallow breaths that was making the woman light-headed. With an iron will, Jack fought back her sudden desire to be touched in places she dare not mention even mentally. Grasping desperately for something to focus on besides her unexpected torrent of need, the weak-kneed woman decided to recall her talk with EDI in the elevator. 'I'm gonna regret this,' she whined, nevertheless recalling that most godforsaken of attempts at humour.

**|=- Flash...**

EDI: ...and so Joker began to insert the command to reroute a fraction of the heat from my drive core into a specially modified OSD receiver that he had lined with an ample layer of omni-gel, before proceeding to inch his (!) **Due to the nature and age restriction of this work of fiction, we regret to inform you that the remainder of this in-story flashback will not be displayed, both for legal complications as well as our sympathetic pity towards the sanctity of your virgin innocence. Believe us, you will not know just how innocent your mind is until you've lost it upon reading the unabridged version of this flashback. We know. We have been damned.** (!)

**|=- ...Back!**

"...Mother."

It was like Jack had reentered cryostasis, but without the chemical-induced coma rendering her nervous system completely unreactive. The moment she recalled a scant five-second snippet of the AI's 22.5 minutes of extremely detailed "joke", her entire body froze as hard as granite, biotic field puffing out of existence, blood retreating from her talc-white skin. Gripping the datapad she reached out for earlier like a vice, the woman shivered slightly with an unnatural coldness as she promptly began erasing any memory of that conversation with EDI from her mind. 'At least... it worked...' Too effectively perhaps, she thought.

The biotic gulped audibly, regretting her decision with a healthy dose of muffled curses to herself. Why did she even get as aroused as she did, and so quickly, in the first place? "Dammit. I guess Shepard really is that damn potent after all," she mused audibly. "Heh; even seperated by a couple of inches of bulletproof steel, the bastard can overload my weapons." Jack shook her head in defeat but smiled all the same. She didn't mind that the Commander had that effect on her, despite her loss of control. Maybe even _because_ of her loss of control. Regardless of her motive, one thing was for sure: _only Him_.

Jack once again sighed, taking a seat in the leather chair she had held onto for support a while ago. She realized that she already underwent a roller coaster of events from the moment she had made the decision to come here, to execute her plan, until this moment, when the female biotic had already stepped into his lair. "And I haven't even fucking met him yet," she stated wistfully. The nagging voice in her head once again returned, noting that Shepard had not noticed her yet, and that there was a chance for the woman to quietly slip out before she made an even bigger fool of herself.

'No, dammit! I am **not** turning back after coming this far. I came here for a reason, and I promised myself and to, to _him_ that I would refuse to run away anymore.' Her hand rose to her nose, pinching the bridge while cringing in frustration, but also a tinge of commitment that hadn't graced her face before. 'I can do this. _I can __**do**__ this._ I _will_ ask him to... to...' With clenched teeth, Jack mentally punched the last words out of her mouth. "To go out with me on a date!" Upon hearing no rebuttal from the voice, her confidence swelled. 'Now fuck off!'

'...' There was a short pause in her thoughts, and for some reason the biotic became acutely aware of the dull sound of the shower still running. 'Great. Now I'm both a psycho _and _a schizo. Just fucking great.' Looking at the bathroom door and assuring herself that it was still very much locked, she started replaying the words she expressed. "That... That was actually pretty lame," Jack admitted. "And pathetic, too. Maybe I really should've thought this over a bit longer." Jack had to remind herself for the umpteenth time that it was too late to be second guessing herself. She was already here. Whatever happened, would happen. She would accept the future, whatever it may bring. 'Might as well keep my mind off it.'

It was only at this time that the tattooed woman really took notice of the datapad that, through thick and thin, loyally remained in her hand. For some strange reason, Jack suddenly felt bad about not having read the thing yet. It was like talking to an old flame in front of someone who you know is interested in you, only to notice her presence after a while and sheepishly remarking, "Shit, Tali, I didn't notice you were there." '...Huh?' Unsure exactly why she thought of the third party in that example as being their resident quarian, she put it out of her mind and brought the long ignored piece of technology to her attention.

"Hm. Let's see what we have here:

"_On Tuchanka, Garrus Vakarian received 24 mating requests... as well as one request from the female camp for his rifle._"

Jack blinked. 'The hell?' Garrus wasn't the one who got those mating requests... 'And his fucking sniper rifle?' Her brows furrowed as she continued reading the strange datapad.

"_Garrus once chose to stroll through the hallway shirtless. There were no survivors._"

She chuckled at that line. It appeared she had gotten her hands onto some sort of list dedicated towards mocking (or exalting) the turian. Curious, she read on.

"_Garrus Vakarian just says 'no' to drugs. If he said 'yes', it would collapse Omega's infrastructure._"

Jack laughed her ass off at this. This was so Garrus. She quickly quieted down, however, looking warily at the bathroom door. Still locked. And the water was still running. She sighed. 'Damn, this is rich.' She continued, skimming over the one-liners for highlights.

"_Garrus doesn't need biotics - one glance, and anything and everything in his line of sight run away, screaming._

"_Executor Pallin died from Garrus Vakarian giving him the finger._

"_The reapers aren't stuck in dark space; they are waiting for Garrus to die before trying to invade his galaxy. In fact, they've been waiting for 50,000 years._"

The female biotic had to bite her lower lip and keep her free hand tightly over her mouth to keep from bursting out in laughter. She began spasming as if she had hiccups. 'Oh my fucking god, this is just too funny!' She wondered if Garrus knew that this sort of thing was going around the Normandy. Afraid that she couldn't keep a little of her guffawing from reaching the showering Commander, the shaking woman moved down to the side of the bed and, against her better judgement, kept reading.

"_Why do krogans have four testicles? So they'd feel slightly less inferior to Garrus Vakarian._

"_In an average living room, there are roughly one thousand objects Garrus Vakarian could use to kill you. The room counts as 1,001._

"_Jack gives the finger to everyone she meets during the day. Garrus compensates by fingering her all day long._

"..." The woman's jaw suddenly dropped wide open as she read that last line. That can't be right. There was just no way. They only had that conversation a half hour ago. 'How the **hell** did it even circulate that damn _fast_!?' Subject Zero was no stranger to the rumor mill. She knew long ago not to estimate the power of an entire crew, with absolutely _nothing_ to do, for days on end. Even the tiniest spark of scandal-worthy news spread across the ship like wildfire, with each worthless do-nothing adding to the flame, and soon it was a fully formed, fully demonized version of the original version of the rumor. 'But it was _still_ just me and Garrus in that elevator! How could anyone even _know_ about th-'

Realization dawned on the woman. Actually, realization slapped her on the face and punched her in the gut. There was no other possibility. No one else was on that elevator when Garrus naively made that comment; just her, and the turian, and '_EDI_. That sneaky little bitch. Can't believe she even had the **balls** to let anyone know about that.' Jack's face darkened considerably, and her biotics began to surround her once again, but this time it sizzled and popped with a deep purple hue. Her mouth opened, and venom that could bring down a krogan coated every word. "_When I get my hands on that __**stupid machi**_-"

"Freeze." That one word, spoken so clearly and with such calm force, completely broke her destructive train of thought. The voice that uttered it was low and vibrating, and it was followed by another sound - high in pitch and rising - that came from a pistol powering up.

"You've got three seconds," that deep, almost animalistic voice continued, steady and dominating in its confidence, yet at the same time inspired fear in the hearts of those who listened to it. Jack's biotic field completely evaporated, her face looking up at the man like a prey that looked helplessly at its predator, staring impending doom in the eye.

"...before I press this trigger..." She wanted to curse herself. She was in the heart of the dragon's lair, where she was supposed to keep a wary eye open for when the epic creature arose from his slumber. Instead, she was caught with her guard down, reading some worthless piece of rumor fodder, and now was staring down the barrel of a gun when she was supposed to ask its owner out that night.

"...and give you a really bad day..." Strangely enough, Jack wasn't afraid. Nor was she angry. She had been in many life-or-death situations on numerous occasions before. She just had never experienced the aggression of the one person she could ever love breathing down her neck, especially when she was painfully aware of her own mistake.

"...for you to explain to me..." But Subject Zero was not ashamed, either. By all rights, given the circumstances, she should have been. She should have felt embarassed, guilty, regretful. That was only natural. But she did not feel any of these things. Instead, the female biotic noted how the steam was rising from the Commander's naked shoulders and chest, how his arm muscles bulged with the tension of pointing his Carnifex Hand Cannon at her head, and how an oddly short towel was all that kept his manliness from being exposed to the universe.

"...why I find you _in _my room, _on _my bed, _looking _at my **god**_**da**_- Jack?" It appeared as though Shepard's initial adrenaline rush was wearing off, as he promptly lowered his weapon. He had only recognized her face now; somewhere in the back of her mind, the woman felt sorry that the Ex-Spectre's instincts were to treat everyone he met as a potential enemy. She could only gaze into his wide eyes, which betrayed his surprise. He could do apparently little but to let the fact that his woman had snuck into his quarters sink in, and his hands both dropped to his sides.

...Which happened to be where the two ends of the Commander's makeshift loincloth were loosely fastened to his person. It was then Jack's turn to grow wide-eyed as her gaze locked onto his midsection; the motion of swiping his hand down had the unintended - and so far unnoticed-by-him - effect of untangling the haphazard knot holding the towel together, and this singular piece of clothing fluttered lightly around the proud Commander's ankles, exposing the man, the myth, and the legend.

"Uh, um, I..." the tattooed woman stuttered uselessly, her mind completely blank. She attempted to think of words that simply were not there. She wanted to say something, anything, but the most dangerous human biotic in the galaxy could do nothing except gawk like a highschool virgin in Sex Ed, learning about the birds and the bees in all its graphic detail. Eventually, she gave up, and there was a pause as two of the saviors of humanity simply stared at each other, with similar expressions of shock. The deafening silence was then interrupted by a computerized beep.

"Commander, once Jack has had her fill enjoying the view, I would like to inform you that your facetowel has unraveled."

_fin_

Post-Body

I have referenced to (and downright ripped some lines of text out of) another Mass Effect fanfic titled "The Garrus Vakarian List" by LockDown. No worries; I politely asked him if I could do so, and he agreed. I hope my integration of the work is both satisfactory to him and appropriately funny within the context of my fiction.

The next chapter ought to be my last, at least for this story arc. I'll label it "complete" at that time, until the point where I come up with a new story arc. If anyone has objections with my logic, please mention it in your review.


	5. Arc 1: Naked Gun 10 and 7 8ths

Pre-Body

Warning: heavily suggestive themes and situations are to follow in this chapter. I mean it. As in, almost as suggestive a situation as what was cut from the abridged version of EDI's "joke" flashback, but significantly less cruel and unusual.

You have been warned.

UPDATE - Edited to match the revised format

**MASS EFFECT 2: The Misadventures Of Subject Zero**

a Series of Stories Involving Jack and John Shepard

Legend: "speech bubbles", 'thought bubbles'

Body

It was... The sight before her was... He... There were no words to describe the tattooed woman's experience at that moment. She was thinking about something in the past, something about fingers, but it did not matter at that moment. She had planned for something, something she spent hours in the hopes of going through with smoothly, but that didn't matter either. All that mattered in the universe, in that unending moment, was her Commander, his muscular body confidently revealed in all its naked glory, in possession of two very potent, very intimidating cannons.

Water that used to coat his skin continued to evaporate and escape into the space above him, almost as if he was unaffected by its attempts to cool him off. To the weak-minded, Shepard came off as a picture of Spartan immortality: facing headlong into any conceivable threat without any visible means of defense, bringing along only the tool that would allow him to slaughter his enemies. The man became a symbol of pure, primal survival. His stature, his conditioning, his utter fearlessness in the face of either genocidal machines or wandering gazes... Coupled with the gradual but inevitable charging of his primary turret, the female biotic was helplessly frozen in place, her mind an empty cup.

"Jack," the Commander began with a startled tone. He was still apparently unaware of anything but the fact that she was in his room. Normally, he called her up; he chose the time and place, and they would meet when he expected to meet her. This was definitely not expected. "Why are you here?"

The woman's reverie was broken at the sound of his gravelly voice tickling her ear. "Huh?" Blinking her eyes, Jack was abruptly tossed back into reality, awareness and all. She became acutely conscious of the particular fact that the current situation - she was in Shepard's quarters, Shepard was completely stripped down to his _nothing_ clothes, and she was sitting at the foot of his bed - was pointing to a very specific answer to the Commander's question that she very specifically decided beforehand _not to do_.

"I... well, I wanted..." This was really not how the biotic had pictured her proposal to the Commander playing out. What she imagined ought to happen was something similar to when she first approached him that fateful night before reaching the galactic core. She would barge in unexpectedly. Shepard would turn around, a datapad in hand, looking on in pleasant surprise. She would clumsily ask him out to dinner that night, and he would smile that knee-weakening _smile_ at her. He would silently nod, and though Jack wouldn't be able to tell, she would know that she returned the smile, and all would be well in the galaxy.

Instead, she was sitting on his bed, reading some idiotic list dedicated towards eliciting some chuckles since it wrote and exaggerated a certain turian sniper's traits, shamefully facing a steaming hot and completely liberated Hero of Mankind who was holding an armed gun and had, just seconds ago, aimed it at her in the heat of the moment before lowering it when he realized who was at the other end, only to unconsciously train his _other_ armed gun in her direction, a fact that was unknown to the former, but _keenly_ known to the latter.

And Jack was staring at the wrong head.

As she desperately formulated a half-decent response to the Commander's straightforward query, common logic - that fixing one's gaze upon an object of interest, while simultaneously trying to participate in a meaningful conversation, was counter-productive at best - was not lost to her. On the contrary, Subject Zero was keenly aware that her decision to pursue staring intently at her man's Weapon of Mass Distraction**(tm)** would do nothing short of completely obliterating whatever minimal speaking skills she possessed. However, her honest eyes were as obsessed with getting burned as a moth was to a flame. 'A 10 7/8-inch, thick, meaty flame,' absently quipped an otherwise verbally-challenged woman.

Jack noticed that Shepard appeared to be running out of patience. It was understandable; never before had she taken such a long time to answer a simple question and, beyond that, no one makes the former Spectre wait on her for that long. "Jack." His voice lowered once again, a hint of annoyance weaving into his indecipherable tone. He took a step forward, still oblivious to his having only a pistol in possession. He took another step forward, and both pieces of artillery swayed in time with his footfall. The female biotic's heart fluttered. He repeated himself less audibly but with much more force than before. "_Why are you here_?"

"I... I..."

"Spit it _out_."

"Shepard, I wanna, I want to have..."

"Want to have _**what**_?"

It was at this point that the Commander realized two things. First, he was naked, still holding his pistol, and currently sported an adrenaline-fueled raging erection that throbbed so hard it was painful. Second... Jack's sights were hopelessly locked onto it. Raising an eyebrow, the gloriously unhindered man took yet another step forward, but sidestepping subtlely so that the current target of the woman's affection lazily followed, rocking sideways in a wide arc. He mentally sighed, observing her eyes aptly tracing every movement of the dragon. He should have known.

A wicked glint flashed at the corner of Shepard's eye, his face betraying none of his spontaneously conceived machinations for the female biotic. With one large motion, he lifted one leg in front of him, stepping onto the soft mattress and sideways from Jack. It gave way, and she lost balance for a split second when her seat leaned her towards his calf, only for her head to be caught along his inner thigh. Her eyes widened at the contacting of their skin, and he could feel her involuntarily trembling as she feebly tried to return to an upright position, a motion that only caused her to inch that much closer towards him.

Grimacing slightly at the feel of Subject Zero's warm breath landing on his exposed being, the iron-willed Commander pushed away the temptation to deviate from his own plan. He inhaled deeply, the air making a rumbling sound as it passed down his throat that evoked memories of predatory desire, and leaned down so that both of his heads were brought to mere inches from the woman's twitching face. When he spoke into her ear, he spoke in barely a whisper yet laced his words in a deep, vibrating growl that left little to the imagination regarding his insinuations:

"_**Jack... what do you want to have?**_"

"...I..." It was too much for her. It was just too much. She was at the very limit of her self control. Her mind was a warzone between the large part of her that harshly wanted nothing more than to throw her plans into the wind and begin the ritual of fervent love-making right then and there, and the smaller but equally vocal part of her that clung onto her sacred promise to him that she would be a different woman, that she _needs_ to propose this to him. It was a drawn out struggle that had casualties; she was already feeling lightheaded from the indecision.

Jack was going to do something she had never done before, and will likely never do ever again. She felt her vision starting to dim, her senses dulling. Subject Zero, the most feared biotic in the galaxy, the killer of hundreds of men and torturer of hundreds more, would faint out of shock. Before she slipped completely into the dark unknown, though, she finally came to a decision and gave her lover the response he was extracting so _effectively_ out of her. Jack whispered two words, faint and fleeting, but as certain as she had ever been of anything in her life.

"Dinner out."

_fin_

Post-Body

The Story Arc, "Jack Asks Shepard Out to Dinner" is complete. How was it?


	6. Arc 2: AstroJacks

Pre-Body

Initializing Arc 2, Codename: Illium

**MASS EFFECT 2: The Misadventures Of Subject Zero**

a Series of Stories Involving Jack and John Shepard

Legend: "speech bubbles", 'thought bubbles', **--- Load Screens...**

Body

'Oh, brother.' Commander John Shepard, hailed as the savior of humanity and the poster boy of other saviors of humanity, was himself not feeling very safe at the moment. In fact, said Commander felt especially distraught with all manners of negative emotions, including but not limited to: shame, worry, embarassment, guilt, depression, anger, self-loathing, etc. 'Of all my years of battle-hardened military service, this is by far the most excruciating "lapse of judgement" I've ever made,' mused the visibly pained man, his loud sigh muffled by a large gloved hand that he had placed on his face. It had been there for a while now, as well as the deep frown on his lips.

"I'm such an idiot..."

"Why are you such an idiot, Commander?" a low, feminine voice inquired with a hint of suspicion. "What exactly did you do?"

"Wha- Nothing that directly connects to this, of course," he quickly replied, quickly catching himself from the surprise of being asked that. He placed his hand in front of him defensively, all the while forcing his thoughts away from what had happened earlier that day and trying not to let color flush his face beet red. There truly was nothing quite like turning on one's bedroom roleplaying skills to overdrive in front of your partner, only to be shot down the atmosphere of awkwardness and crash diving "headfirst" into the **ice**-cold sea of utter disillusionment.

Doctor Chakwas looked up from the patient's bed where the oddly reddish-skinned tattooed biotic lay resting - taken down by a fainting spell that so far the resident battle medic of the Normandy could not ascertain the causes of - to meet the indecipherable look on the Commander's face. "As a qualified psychologist and paramedic, I shall be the judge of what does or does not _directly connect_ to the wellbeing of a crewmember," she began, crossing her arms almost as if to invite any who spoke to her to try and prove her wrong, "who just so happened to be in _your _quarters at the moment of her losing consciousness."

Shepard winced slightly at being lectured. The doctor's point drove its way home, and there was little he could do about it. For all his experience sweet talking criminals and baser elements of society into accepting his side of an argument, the man just lacked the proper skill level to win in a talkdown with a veteran. He knew it was an inevitable confrontation either way; he wouldn't be able to avoid the probing questions of the local population for long, and he feared that the omnipotent "Rumor Mill" would provide an entirely scandalous and comprimising answer to their satisfaction long before he could release his own version of the truth. He had yet to discover the mastermind behind the independent Garrus Vakarian list of rumors, and that information was mostly harmless.

"Now tell me, Commander," Doctor Chakwas urged him, "why you are such an _idiot_?"

'Ouch.' "Listen, doctor," the cornered soldier replied. "The events that took place in the captain's quarters are the captain's business. Jack's condition is quite mild and isn't anything to worry about, in any case."

"I never mentioned a link between what you did when you two were up there and the cause of her having fainted," the scrutinizing woman remarked, and Shepard winced once more.

'Damn, she's good.' "Well, it is only natural to assume that, if Jack had fainted while she and I were both in the same room, it would be connected somehow to why she was there."

"Neither did I mention her agenda as being involved in any of this." The Commander gently massaged his neck while shifting his weight to his other leg, discomfort starting to build up.

'I've already counted three strikes in her favor.' His eyes started to look at a far off ornament on the wall with a sudden interest. 'I think I'm losing my edge.' "I, uh, you see, when in a certain light..." He began shifting on his feet with growing discomfort, pointedly avoiding what he knew to be the woman's deathly cold glare. "There's a, in other terms...." The situation wasn't boding well for him. He would talk about it eventually - perhaps in a few months' time, give or take a week - but the soldier feared being forced into coming clean about his dirty, dirty thoughts so soon after having it would cause him, and Jack, irreversible social damage.

"Doctor Chakwas," Shepard started with a pained tone that took the older woman by surprise. "This is a little difficult for me to say to you without it sounding very unpleasant for all parties involved. I want you understand how sensitive this matter is to me, and to Jack as well." He ran a hand through his semi-bald head as he began to explain himself in a way that the doctor wasn't expecting. "You must believe me when I tell you that I was myself completely surprised at Jack's reaction.

"You see, Jack and I are in a unique relationship. Okay, that was an understatement. The point is, though, that it is particularly unconventional in the fact that she has constantly been deceived or let down by people she trusted in the past. She's been hurt. She's been lied to. She's been used. All of these things contributed to the person you and I have come to know as 'Subject Zero'." In the corner of his eye, Shepard noticed a light twitch in the patient's pinky finger. It was subtle, and perhaps he imagined it, but now wasn't the right time to worry about it.

"Subject Zero is the most ruthless biotic woman in the known galaxy. She is a killer, a hazard, and a threat to those that cross her path. The woman on that bed, however, is not Subject Zero. Not the one that the public knows about. She is a passionate and loyal friend, a fun-loving adventurer, a courageous risk-taker, and so many other things that I can't begin to list down. That is Jack. That is the woman I love.

"Of course, going from 'I'm going to fucking steal everything you own down to your underwear, asshole' Jack to the amazing woman she has every right and potential to be does not happen overnight. Ever since I met her, she has been mostly anti-social and pessimistic in her outlook on life, a perspective that made her shoot down all of my attempts to just have normal conversations with her. It took me a long time to convince her that I wasn't as bad as all the other people she had met.

"After a while, her attitude towards me became less hostile and turned into merely a reluctant curiosity. She was confused with me, I think. Most people would be. I was starting to court what to most people's eyes was the most bloodthirsty being in space. Well, after fighting the embodiments of bloodthirstiness, I think I would have the greater insight as to who this woman is. And that's what I was doing, probably much to Jack's annoyance: trying to understand why she was Subject Zero.

"I spent much of my available time with her, bringing her with me whenever I needed to be somewhere, going with her to Pragia to give her a peace of mind. These things allowed me to imagine what was in her head. I could never really fathom the pain and betrayal that constantly ate her, but I could get a sense. I was able to talk to her on a level that finally got through all of her defenses. And before diving headfirst into Omega-4, heading into the maws of death itself, I finally saw Jack... the woman."

Shepard paused momentarily, a small smile gracing his lips as the mature and experienced doctor could only look at him with shock, a hand to her open mouth. In the background, a certain eavesdropper made no signs of her listening in on the conversation, with the exception of a single teardrop escaping her closed eyes. The Commander continued slowly. "She's unlike any other person you've encountered, doctor. Jack is this sweet and caring and loyal person, but you can't see it by just talking to her, by just interacting with her. If you approach her like you would any other person, the responses you get would be sorely different from what you would expect.

"She's trying, though. Jack is trying as hard as she can to become the woman I know she is inside. Soon, she will be able to show others the side of her that only I have had the honor of seeing. People will cease calling her by her title or by other derogatory labels. Once she overcomes her previous preconceptions about the evil in this galaxy and among the general population, once she becomes more comfortable just mixing in with everyone, I assure you that no one will reel back in fear when she appears, and she will no longer have any reason to _be_ 'Subject Zero' anymore. Once that happens, Jack will just be, well, Jack."

'Shepard, always the fucking optimist,' the now fully conscious biotic thought bitterly, tears flowing freely now. 'You just _have_ to see the silver goddamn lining in everything, don't you?' She bit her lip in order to avoid her sobs from leaving her. Her Commander was being unfair to her. He completely downplayed everything that occurred, everything that he also had to endure while "rehabilitating" the woman. She felt waves of love and guilt passing through with every word spoken, every genuine and heartfelt remark he noted. 'No,' she thought defiantly to herself. 'He doesn't deserve that sort of burden, dammit. His love doesn't fucking deserve to be given to a person after having to endure so much for... for so little...'

"That's, that's what happened in a nutshell, I think," the Commander concluded softly, clearing his throat as he explained to the speechless doctor. "Jack came to my room to ask me out to dinner. I'm not sure it went as well as she had planned." The savior of the galaxy brought his hand to his head once again, looking down sheepishly. Doctor Chakwas numbly tried to pry her mouth open to press the issue, but had no heart left in to try.

"I... I see."

"Yeah..." He chuckled a little, avoiding the still wide-eyed gaze that was boring into him. "Actually, I suppose it was partially my fault. Why Jack fainted, I mean."

"Hm?" The mature woman shook her head to regain her senses. This new piece of information was too much to pass away. "How do you mean?"

"Well, I told you how Jack was changing slowly, right? Well, I didn't always have the best sense of just what state of change she was in at the moment. There are, in fact, some times when she actually regresses to her more violent or similar tendencies. It only happens for a moment, but I can never tell when she's like that."

Seeing that she wouldn't let him end at just that, the soldier sighed and continued, picking his words carefully to make sure he never revealed the... _compromising_ extent of his actions, while still staying on the borders of what was true. "So, Jack came into my quarters at a point in time that caught me off guard. I didn't even have the time to think things through. She and I were in a situation where, as was normally the case, her intentions were much, uh, much _simpler_ than I gave her credit for." He couldn't hold it this time; his blush was fully visible for anyone to see, dot-connecting qualified psychologists included.

"You, you thought she came to your room for..." the good doctor gasped, her hand snapping back up to her gaping mouth. "John, you came to the conclusion that Jack approached you for _physical gratification_?"

"..." He looked at the older woman with no small amount of surprise. That was an interesting term to use, he mused, as the color of his skin deepened. "Well, I guess you could put it that way."

"So, what happened then, hm? Hopefully you didn't rough her up with any aggressive foreplay."

"Wha-!? It's not like I had the intention of _raping_ the woman or anything!" The flustered Commander rebuked defensively, feeling that particular wild guess landing squarely on the money.

"Oh, mother of mercy, Shepard, you didn't use any of Mordin's glorified 'Kama Sutra for Biotics' did you? Those things are just too much sensory input for Jack's unprepared mind!"

His jaw dropped visibly. "What are you rambling on about, Doctor Chakwas!? How did you even know about Mordin's biotic methods-for-non-combative-purposes encyclopedia? He said only five copies existed, and he had four of them!"

"Don't underestimate the hormonally charged dedication of Liutenant Alenko, Commander," the mature woman stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms yet again. "Back on the SR-1, he told me how he had managed to nab the last one off an extranet auction. Said it ate through a quarter of his life savings."

"Kaidan spent his salary on fetish manuals!?"

"Given the fact that you rarely brought him to any of your missions, it was only natural the man would develop a... ahem... '_pasttime_'." She chuckled and sighed deeply, looking up in a manner that Shepard found odd. "And what a _man _he was, let me tell you. I actually had the **pleasure** of having him demonstrate some the techniques with-"

"For _Reapers' _sake, Chakwas!" the Commander cried out as he felt his soul slowly evaporating with the building of that mental image. "You can at the very least honor my best friend's memory by not tainting it with his less than honorable past deeds. God!"

"Less than- how rude! There's nothing _more_ honorable for a man than to bring happiness to a woman's bleak existence," she retorted, her eyes glaring at the little man before her. "And you know what? I enjoyed it _every time_."

"**_Gah_**!"

The pair was interrupted when a loud snickering penetrated the charged atmosphere, slightly echoing in the confines of the medical station. Both of them immediately fixed their gaze on the lying biotic, her face moist with tears and her hands holding her stomach and side.

"Oh, shit," she hiccupped between laughing spasms. "Hahaha... You guys are _killing_ me! Hehe, please, no more!" As she continued her giggling fit, Jack could only shake her head with sheer amusement. That little argument took her completely by surprise. The bickerers could only look at each other sheepishly. When the female biotic started coughing, they both rushed to her side.

"Steady now, Jack," Shepard instructed her. "Don't overdo it."

"Ease off, damm- I, uh, I mean I'm fine, okay?"

"..."

She could see her partner grinning at the doctor's dumbstruck expression. "Told you she's changing," he said with no small degree of pride.

The female biotic smiled inwardly, as well, seeing his reactions and the good that seemed to come out of their constant meetings. She took a little time for herself as the two started to argue again. 'I guess, in a way, he molded me into who I am.' Gazing into her Commander's beaming face, she sighed softly. 'That's it. That's why it's okay for me to be his choice. I'm his doing now.' "I'm his."

"Hm?" Doctor Chakwas noticed her slip of the tongue and refocused her attention to the tattooed woman. "Did you say something, my dear?"

Jack blinked, then mentally cursed herself at her carelessness. "O-of course not, you shrink! I was just remembering why I fainted so as to make sure it never happens again, is all."

"Really? Would you care to recall verbally?"

"Dammit, Chakwas, quit being so persistent!"

"Hush, Commander, I wasn't speaking to you." The mature doctor shot a burning glare at the soldier, who proceeded to make his displeasure known through a grunt and a scowl. "Now Jack, how was it that a woman as hardened as you fainted in Commander Shepard's cabin?"

The biotic mulled it over in her mind, a blush starting to color her cheeks. "It's kinda funny, actually. You see- Mmf!"

"I'm really sorry, doc," Shepard began, his hand coming over Jack's mouth mid-sentence. "I just can't undermine my and Jack's reputations for the sake of your inquisitive nature."

"Oh, so it's all about ego now, is it Commander?" Chakwas snapped, swiping his arm down with her own, freeing the patient's lips.

"Hey guys, listen, I'm fine talking abo-nngrf!"

"No you're not, Jack! Listen, it's too dangerous to let it get out that-"

"That what precisely, Shepard?" Another swipe, but this time he tried to return his hand to her mouth. He missed his mark a bit.

"Shepard, lay of the tits!"

"Whoops. Sorry, Jack."

"Really now, Commander, is this the time to continue where you two left off last time?"

"I-! That wasn't my intention at all!"

The doors suddenly burst open, and all looked at the blue figure that entered the room. "Shepard, I came as soon as I finished calibrations... on... Oh." Said Commander paled as he realized just who it was.

'Oh shit; it's Garrus!'

This was spiraling out of hand. First, he had gotten into an argument with the doctor, explained the background of his entire relationship with the female biotic, fended off both the prying questions and nonchalant answers of the former and latter, respectively, and now he was caught in an easily _misinterpretable_ situation where he had **a) **a hand on Jack's largely exposed breasts; **b)** another hand held firmly by Chakwas' hand, and; **c)** all three of them a little too close to each other for comfort.

And the worst part of it? It was Garrus that caught them.

With as straight a voice as he could, Shepard attempted to diffuse the turian from any conclusion jumping. "Uh, listen... This really isn't what it looks like."

"Oh, no problem whatsoever, Shepard. I see you've got a _hand_le on the situation." The marine could honestly swear that he saw a flash of a smile in those mandibles as he delivered that implicit punchline.

"No, I mean it, Garrus," he continued to plead with him. "Doctor Chakwas wanted to find out why Jack fainted, and we got into a... misunderstanding."

"So... you decided to perform a live demonstration?"

"What? No! No, _this_ is the misunderstanding, dammit!"

"Ah, yes," the rifle expert snickered, causing everyone else's skins to turn white. "I get it. Although I tend to keep my _misunderstandings_ away from open, public spaces. Personally, though, without someone like Jack or Doctor Chakwas to 'misunderstand', I end up just doing calibrations by myself."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...What? The Normandy needs constant tuning up."

"...Mother..."

"..._fucking_..."

"...Uh, um, **well**... I've got nothing."

_fin_

Post-Body

This chapter is a little long, as well as being the least Jack-centric chapter so far. I hope it still fits.


	7. Arc 2: Hit the Road, Jack

Pre-Body

Sorry about slowing down in terms of releasing my stories. I've got finals just around the corner, and even then I had to edit a 30-minute video for presentation the night before (and finished it the morning earlier). I'll try to release some new material witout sacrificing writing quality. In fact, after reading a few particularly good work out there (one of note was from an author with the initials HS), I feel like I need to make my chapters even **better **written. Damn my perfectionist tendencies.

If anyone would like to comment on the current direction of this story, feel free to leave a review. Any helpful suggestions and criticism would be nice, too.

**MASS EFFECT 2: The Misadventures Of Subject Zero**

a Series of Stories Involving Jack and John Shepard

Legend: "speech bubbles", 'thought bubbles', **--- Load Screens...**, **|=-** Flashbacks **-=|**, -|- R**S -|- **Shift in POV** -|- B**S -|-

Body

"Good evening, passengers," the sarcastically cheerful voice of Joker greeted dryly through the intercom. "This is your badass pilot Joker speaking." Jack heard several audible groans leave the mouths of the collective masses of equally disgruntled crew. "I would like to inform you that we have safely docked into the most luxurious district outside of Citadel space: Illium." This would be their first break from the constant battle against the Reapers in several weeks, and their first ever since they took out the main headquarters of those genocidal machines' primary tool of harvesting and observing the progress of the galaxy: the Collectors.

Jack, along with the other squad members who were part of that final assault against the indoctrinated-into-mindless-zombies race of former Protheans, was exhausted from the mission. After the initial adrenaline rush that came about succeeding where everyone thought they would fail with heavy casualties - and actually returning from the core with _absolutely none_ - they burned themselves out helping the severely traumatized crew make as best a makeshift overhaul of the ship's damaged hull as possible. Worst of all, they had to do it in mid-relay transit. 'Shepard's a fucking slave driver, risking our necks to getting ripped apart by hyperspace _right after _risking our necks to getting ripped apart by a goddamn **Reaper fetus**.'

"If you'd all kindly refrain from elbowing your fellow crewmembers in the face, chest or _bad place_ on your way out, Doctor Chakwas would be plenty grateful." The bald-headed woman sighed loudly and shook her head, looking around her. The path leading towards the airlock was fairly spacious for a Frigate's standards, but even it couldn't handle the exodus of the entire ship's population. There was very little "wiggle" room on any angle, let alone room enough for people concerned about personal space to be anywhere near comfortable. That included her.

"Hey, watch it," Jack snapped irritably to a hapless Cerberus staff, who proceeded to whimper and make himself as small as possible upon discovering just who it was he unwittingly shoved. "Touch me again, and I **swear** I'll... crap." She caught herself from withdrawing to her usual fire-and-forget personality, looking at the quivering mass next to her. 'I hate it when I get like that.' "Listen, uh, guy," she started with a distinctively calmer voice. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Just watch where you're headed next time, alright?" Her sudden change of attitude shocked her companion, who proceeded to bump into someone else: the resident bounty hunter, Zaeed.

"Get offa me, or I'll _reevaluate_ my vow to the Commander of putting my idiot-bashing business on hold. We clear, mate?" The woman sighed once more, but this time gave up a small chuckle. At least she held up her own promise to continue improving herself; she needn't take responsibility for any inadvertent consequences that might entail. In the back of her mind, she noted how the well-paid hunter mentioned his own promise to Shepard and grinned. His charisma and the feeling of needing to prove oneself to him was not just limited to her, it seemed.

Just when the biotic's mood lifted, though, the intercom blared one last time with that same, dry-humored voice that elicited another curse from her, out of instinct. "And Grunt, don't pick any fights. This is 'shore leave', not 'shore killing-spree-warzone-ala-mode leave'." Somewhere behind her, Jack heard the loud whine of the krogan Shepard had picked up as a tank-bred experiment. Of course, a simple whining sound for a krogan translated into an ear-splitting roar of dissatisfaction for all other species, a simple fact that reminded itself very painfully to everyone within a two-biped radius of the hulking creature.

Grunt replied to the pilot, who was still many feet away from him, without the use of a radio channel (oddly enough, Shepard instructed everyone not to bring their audio transmitters with them; he mentioned something about it "making the entire occasion feel like a patrol instead of a shore leave") again to the chagrin of those in his immediate vicinity. "But I've been waiting to smash skulls into pulp since invading the Collector's homeland! I demand bloodshed!"

'The hell? The guy comes straight out of the single bloodiest and most dangerous fight for his life, for _everyone's_ goddamn lives, and he wants more?' Had her position relative to Grunt been just a little closer so as to thoughtfully put fewer human targets between them - but even now, it was tempting - Jack would have happily given her thick-headed squadmate a piece of her eezo-charged mind. It was near the end of the Collector assault, and Shepard had chosen her to protect him and his squad, a fact that kept giving her butterflies whenever she thought just how much he'd trusted her to do that for him. Unfortunately, he also chose to bring the krogan along, who proceeded to charge into battle - and out of the biotic barrier - several times, making their trip that much longer.

Just as the tattooed woman felt that she would be justified in replying to Grunt's ridiculous wishes with a satisfying response, one that she could only deliver through the language of ass-kicking, Joker beat her to it."Then sneak into the women's bathroom when a human female says it's her _time of the month_." He shouted this one over air this time, since they were close enough to the exit and the pilot for the use of the intercom to be impractical. "Bet you'll have your fill of bloodshed to last you another week."

Jack's jaw dropped. "You little crippled sonuva-"

"Truly?" the krogan interrupted her mid-sentence, cutting her rage-filled train of thought with a tone of genuine curiosity. "The tank did not mention this phenomenon."

"You gotta be shitting me," she uttered aloud. The pilot crossed a fine line with all the finesse of a running elcor trying to bank to the side. In one fell swoop, the biotic woman suddenly had to be constantly vigilant of a massive alien innocently trying to take a peek at one of a human woman's most secretive of rituals, and she had a calcium-challenged comedian to thank for it. At least now, she was relieved that she wasn't the closest female to Grunt in the area. Looking back at him, though, she almost doubled over in barely contained laughter when she discovered who _was_.

"Lawson," Grunt began with the straightest face imaginable, making the grimace of pure horror on the Cerberus operative's own that much more hilarious, "...is it your _time of the month_?"

"Joker, you **incompetent **_**ass**_!"

**--- Loading...  
--- In this universe, there are two types of people: those whom Garrus likes, and those whom he doesn't. Coincidentally, the same division or categorizing of  
--- people occurs when you evaluate them between those who are alive and well, and those who are not.  
--- ...**

Jack was standing near the bridgeway that connected the Normandy to Illium, arms crossed and tapping her booted foot on the metal floor. 'What's taking Shepard so damn long in there?' As she silently watched the last of the crew flooding out of the ship, the biotic woman exhaled loudly. "Even Joker doesn't deserve a save after pulling that stunt with Grunt." She silently mused how unfortunate the pilot had been to have Miranda of all people become an unwitting victim of his most heinous act of humor yet. 'Then again, he's even luckier that it hadn't been me.'

She snapped back to reality as her eyes caught a glimpse of the man she had been waiting for, confidently strutting down the incline wearing a rather well-designed variation of his normal indoor attire. His eyes met hers, the model of confidence peering into the sea of chaotic passion, the tides of which her Commander was slowly but surely stemming and transforming into... 'Into something _better_.' She slowly uncrossed her arms and calmed down considerably at his arrival. There was something about him, something she couldn't describe, that just made her feel less bothered by things around her. He gave her a grin; her breath got caught in her throat.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting," the Ex-Spectre started with a hint of amusement in his voice. He came to a stop in front his woman and unexpectedly took her hand in his as he bowed deeply, planting a soft kiss on the back of it that sent a warm tingling up her spine. "...Madame."

"Sh-shut up, Shepard," Jack retorted in an attempt to sound offended, but her face began to redden as she weakly tried pulling her hand back, to no avail; it was His. The Commander looked up with a glint in his eye, telling her that he understood this just as much as she did, and that he could do it anytime he pleased. 'And he's right,' she thought with a somewhat meek smile. She numbly wondered just how she could tell so much from a single gleam of his eye, but didn't pursue the stray thought, choosing instead to savor the moment of being enveloped in her companion's unspoken possessiveness, to savor her state of _possession_ by a man that could have everything... and instead picked her.

Shepard slowly straightened his back, bringing their gazes level with each other, but never let go of her tether to him. "It seems Joker isn't coming ashore," he spoke in his gravelly voice that Jack loved, but in a matter-of-fact tone. "Said something about the leather seats sealing the deal."

The tattooed woman grunted with slight disinterest. "He's probably got himself plenty of action on board anyway."

The soldier gave her a strange look. "You think Joker and EDI are in that sort of relationship?"

"I don't _think_ so; I _know_ so." A slight shudder wracked her body as she tried her best not to recall her recent experience with the AI too vividly. "...Unfortunately so."

The Commander's puzzled look remained on his face, and for a moment Jack thought that he would insist on making her relive that event that shook her to the core more profoundly than even facing the embodiment of the Reapers' twisted ambition to evolve. She sighed inwardly when he nodded, giving her hand a soft squeeze that very quickly reminded her that it was still in his own hand. With that slight pressure, the biotic woman was washed of all thoughts that were not directly connected to the undertaking that she would that she would proceed to embark on with her man by her side. She closed her eyes momentarily and let out a contented sigh, indifferent to whatever fears of being seen like this she may harbor.

"Ready?"

His voice opened her eyes once more. She looked into his, a soft hue of blue that seemed to encapsulate the entire galaxy when he cast his calculating gaze upon it. With a slow nod and a released breath, she replied with as much effort to portray her thoughts to him in as fluently as she could. "Shepard, when I'm with you, I'm ready for anything."

-|- Rrree**eddd Shifting... -|-**

"Target is on the move." **breath** "I repeat, target is _on_-" **breath**"-_the move_."

"With bated breath: Affirmative, Swift Wind. Attempting to look inconspicuous: Approaching vantage point _beta_."

"Will follow," **breath** "Slow Rock. I suggest not" **breath** "speaking often in order to avoid" **breath** "your natural speech limitations arousing" **breath** "suspicion."

"Half-heartedly: Agreed. Sarcastically: Because I am the only one with natural speech limitations."

**-|- Bbblllu**uueee Shifting... -|-

"...Uh, Shepard, do you notice those two guys tailing us?"

"Probably just fans. Don't worry about them."

"Yeah, but still, they're giving me the creeps."

"Just ignore them and follow my lead. I've got experience dealing with fanatics."

"Shouldn't we at least tell them they're fooling us like Salarians fool Krogan into taking anti-genophage pills?"

"...Hm."

"...Alright, dammit; I'll follow your lead. But just 'cause me following while you're leading always ends with me having the best damn high in the _entire fucking galaxy_.'

"Good girl."

Post-Body

The plot thickens, hehe.

I'd like to note that, as much as possible, I'd like to include references and allusions in my work. To that end, I'll start talking to fellow writers and asking if I can borrow lines or settings of their story in order to conjure a sense of deja vu or better within the reader. Certain parts of my stories will eventually even reference to my other stories which may or may not be interrelated. It's yet another storytelling concept I'm experimenting on. Here's to hoping it works out.


End file.
